


What If I Can't Forget You?

by lostin_space



Series: Isobel Evans Appreciation Week 2020 ❤️️ [4]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Homophobia, Hopeful Ending, Minor Max Evans/Liz Ortecho, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25728172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostin_space/pseuds/lostin_space
Summary: After being kicked out a decade prior, Isobel comes home for her mother's funeral to a lot of surprising changes.
Relationships: Isabel Evans/Liz Ortecho
Series: Isobel Evans Appreciation Week 2020 ❤️️ [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861099
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	What If I Can't Forget You?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by disobedience 
> 
> Day 4 of Isobel week: AU 
> 
> If I missed any tags, let me know

The last time Isobel Evans had been in Roswell, she’d been told not to ever come back.

When her mother had adopted her and promised to love her no matter what, it was apparently written in the fine print to be meaningless if she turned out queer. No matter how hard Isobel tried to keep her desires to herself, it became impossible when Liz Ortecho had smiled her way. Anne Evans had managed to blind herself from her daughter’s tastes up until she caught them in a compromising position. Isobel did what she was told and fled. The only people from home that she kept in touch with were Michael and his boyfriend who had both left town for the same reason.

That is until she got a call telling her that her mother had died.

Maybe it was foolish of her to show up, but her mind didn’t even consider that as she bought a plane ticket and boarded in the same couple hours. Then she found herself in front of her childhood home. After a few breaths to subside her fear, she knocked on the door.

“Isobel,” Max, her brother, said, shock on his face. She took a shaky breath and smiled. She’d missed him more than anything even if he had willingly gone along with their mother’s choice to disown her.

“Did you miss me? She asked, opening her arms. He instantly went into them. He lifted her off her feet and made her feel young, like they hadn’t been barely 18 when they last spoke. It was the first time she’d felt welcome when she thought of this place in a long time.

It didn’t last, though, and the moment they walked inside and waded through the large group of judgey women mourning her mother, she felt like she was right back to being a spectacle. Right back to wondering if this was a bad idea.

Max pulled her through everyone, though, and into the kitchen. It was relatively empty outside of the counters full casseroles and other dishes that they’d made to keep him fed while he mourned his mother. She smiled. At least they still liked him.

“So, how have you been?” Isobel asked, watching as he went to wash his hands in the sink.

“Uh,” he breathed, “Fine, I guess? I’m a cop now.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah,” Max said, huffing a little laugh, “That’s what my wife said.”

That caught Isobel’s attention and she perked up, stepping closer. She hadn’t been told Max was getting married. Sure, she tried to Facebook stalk him, but his profile was private and the only thing on display was his profile picture that was the New Mexico Lobos’ logo. It was impossible.

“Wife?” she echoed, tilting her head in intrigue, “You got married? To who? Do I know her?”

Max didn’t answer right away, drying his hands on his slacks before turning to the sea of dishes and picking one to heat up in the oven at random. He seemed a little frazzled and Isobel cursed herself for a moment for forgetting that he was probably upset about their mother. She, on the other hand, had mourned her mother years before. First a decade ago when she kicked her out, and second five years ago when she realized she really never wanted to see her again. When she found out she’d died, that she’d been sick and didn’t call to make amends, Isobel could only be a little sad.

Anne Evans had made her bed. Now she got to lie in it.

“Is she that bad?” Isobel said, deciding to lighten the mood by making it sound less like she was prodding, “What, did you marry Maria DeLuca and ruin my chances of winning that bet I made with Michael that he would marry her?”

“No,” Max said curtly. She watched him, tall and broad and saw that he was a grown man now. A grown man who was sad and overwhelmed because his mother died. Genuinely sad. 

As if on a cue Isobel didn’t realize, Liz Ortecho walked into the kitchen.

Isobel made eye contact with her and tried to ignore the way she still took her breath away. Her hair was long and braided down her back, falling over her long sleeved black shirt and dark wash jeans and scuffed up black boots. She looked the same and so different and Isobel smiled. Liz didn’t hold eye contact for long.

“Liz,” Isobel said, watching as she brought the empty pitcher of tea towards the stove and quickly turned the burner on to make more. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, it has been a long time,” Liz agreed, barely sparing her a look. It burned, but what could she expect? It’d been so long. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I didn’t expect to be here,” Isobel admitted with a soft laugh, “I guess I couldn’t keep away.” Neither Liz nor Max said a word as they shared a look with each other. The look held a conversation between them and Isobel felt left out. “So, I was just bothering him about who he married. Do you know who it is? Do we approve of what girl stole my brother’s innocence?”

“I think we approve, yes,” Liz said softly, heading to the proper cabinet to pull out tea bags. She seemed too familiar with the kitchen. Isobel watched her.

“Well, what have you been up to?” Isobel prodded. There was such a distinct feeling in the air and she was about five seconds from fleeing again. Michael and Alex had promised they’d be staying close by if she needed a getaway car. Maybe she would take them up on that. “Did you ever get out of Roswell? I know you had big dreams and a ton of potential. Did you ever go to California or New York or wherever that fancy school was? Have you, uh, made any big scientific discoveries yet?”

“I haven’t,” Liz answered flatly.

Isobel just looked around the room, at her brother and at the woman she’d once imagined she would be spending her life with. Things were tense and awkward and Isobel felt like she really wasn’t wanted. Perhaps a decade of space wasn’t long enough. Maybe they were simply upholding her mother’s wishes, that she would leave and stay gone. Isobel shifted uncomfortably.

“Okay,” Isobel said, trying to find words to continue the conversation, but failing, “Um…”

“Where are you staying tonight?” Max asked her. Isobel could’ve kissed him for saving the conversation. She had so much to say to him, so much to hear, and yet it seemed impossible.

“Probably that motel in town,” Isobel answered.

“She could stay here with us,” Liz offered. And Isobel froze.

“That’s what I was thinking. Do you think your dad would be okay with us borrowing that air mattress?” Max asked, speaking much more comfortably than he had been before.

“Of course he would be,” Liz said, smiling softly at him before she went back to the tea.

“You’re married?” Isobel asked, feeling a little more than incredulous. In fact, she felt like she was suffocating. “To each other? And you live here?”

“Yes,” Max answered like it was a weight off his shoulder, “Yes, we are. We do.”

Isobel looked at Liz and then at her brother and then images in her mind of what Liz looked like when they were celebrating her 18th birthday flooded her mind. Too many images of her smile and her skin and the way she tasted when she was covered in stolen champagne and the way she sounded when Isobel touched her just where she wanted. And then those memories were replaced with the same thing, only Max was there instead and Isobel felt sick.

What was even more sick was that Max knew who Liz was to her. Everyone did. Rumors spread fast when Anne Evans’ beloved princess gets disowned.

“Wow,” Isobel said, taking a deep breath and swallowing down the bile that burned in her throat, “Wow.”

“I thought about inviting you to the wedding,” Liz offered, avoiding eye contact because she knew how much this information stung, “I couldn’t find out where you were living. That nomadic lifestyle of yours, you know.”

“I’d hardly call fending for myself when I was a kid after my mother kicked me out for no reason being nomadic,” Isobel said, tone icier than she anticipated.

“Isobel,” Max said, glaring at her. Isobel was trapped by his stare, trapping by this information, the walls closing around her. She wasn’t sure what she expected when she came home, but this was certainly not it.

“Right, right, can’t speak ill of the dead,” she laughed dryly, looking around and avoiding their eyes, “Right. I’m happy for you. I’m going to go find my room.”

Neither of them stopped her as she headed for the stairs and quickly scaled them. It was a relatively big house. Their parent’s room was downstairs while Max, Isobel, and the guest room were all upstairs. The hall looked the same except all the pictures that were once of her had been replaced with more of Max as she made her way towards her bedroom and gently grabbed the doorknob before twisting.

Her bedroom had been her one safe haven. Every time she got scared or upset, she’d go there and her mother respected that space as hers. It was the room she had multiple panic attacks inside as she slowly discovered she liked women, completely unaware Michael was having the same bi-panic not far away at the same time. It was the room she cried in when she got stood up on her first date. It was the room she’d lined with stuffed animals that she’d hid her weed inside. It was the room where she discovered what Liz Ortecho tasted like.

Isobel didn’t know what to expect to find when she entered it again after a decade of being gone, but when she faced a completely empty room, she knew it wasn’t that. Maybe part of her had wished her mother kept it just in case she came home. Maybe if she had, Isobel would remember what it felt like, for a moment, what it was to have her mother’s unconditional love. Because that’s what unconditional love was, right? Always giving them a place to go? Her mother had taken that too.

The walls were bare, the closet was empty, any trace of her pink-painted walls or her collage of pictures with Max and Michael was gone entirely. The only tell that someone had ever lived in that room was the scuff mark on the floor from when she rearranged her room in the middle of the night to cope with her panicking.

Isobel slowly sat on the floor, trying to keep herself composed as it really set in how much she shouldn’t have come here. It was like being 18 again, like being kicked out again, like being angry and hurt and unlovable and unwanted and hated all over again. She shouldn’t have come here.

Just as she was fiddling with her pockets to find her phone so she could call Michael to come get her before she broke entirely, someone knocked on the door.

Isobel sniffled and wiped over her face to try and act like she hadn’t been about to cry as it creaked open and Liz poked her head inside. This time, Isobel noticed how pale she looked and how her typical bold personality seemed overly dulled. This wasn’t the Liz she had spent hours planning a future with.

But then again, she never imagined Liz would marry Max either.

“Are you alright?” Liz asked, coming in and pausing before she slowly closed the door behind her.

“I guess so,” Isobel said, forcing a laugh. Liz nodded and still stayed firmly with her back against the door. Isobel remembered a night where they’d laid in bed, whispering quietly about everything they’d felt. How Isobel had liked boys and girls and it didn’t make sense, how Liz had tried to like boys and only found she wasn’t interested. Liz was a lesbian. Or, she was. People changed, she presumed.

“I’m sorry about your room,” she said and Isobel rolled her eyes, “When your mother went to burn everything, I suggested that maybe she should keep it for when you came home, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“She burned it?” Isobel asked, a laugh escaping her despite it not at all being funny. She really just burned Isobel’s memory away. Or she tried. “God, she was such a bitch.” Liz didn’t answer right away. “Sorry, shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

“No, you’re right, she was a bitch,” Liz agreed. Isobel offered a tired smile. “I managed to steal a couple things before she noticed, though. They’re back at the Crashdown if you wanted to come by.” 

A few seconds of silence passed as she listened to Liz’s invitation. Her invitations had always been something Isobel looked forward to. Now, she wasn’t allowed to.

“I can’t believe you married my brother,” Isobel scoffed, picking at the carpet. Liz huffed a small laugh.

“Yes, well, me neither.”

A few hours passed before the house eventually cleared and Isobel found herself walking the streets of Roswell beside Liz Ortecho so they could get to her father’s restaurant. It was weird as hell, but Isobel had had hours to readjust. And to vent to Michael and Alex via their group chat, but no one needed to know about that.

The sun was setting and Liz kept space between them like she was scared to accidentally bump shoulders with her like they had when they were young and walked places together. They couldn’t hold hands, but they could accidentally run into each other every few steps. They’d been so childish, so young. She missed that.

“So, aside from my brother, what have you been up to?” Isobel asked, “You had such big dreams. I can’t imagine you staying here in Roswell or, honestly, marrying a man.”

“I didn’t expect to be still here either,” Liz admitted, ignoring the second statement, “But things just got away from me. My dad needed me to stay to help with Rosa and then, by the time she was clean, I was already engaged to Max. Then I couldn’t leave.”

“You’re so smart, though,” Isobel scoffed, “You should go back to school now.”

“I don’t know if that’s an option.”

“It’s always an option,” Isobel insisted, “You were brilliant, Liz. You could do so much. Seriously, think about it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

They walked into the Crashdown as it came into sight and Arturo, Liz’s dad, was the first person all night to be excited to see Isobel. He’d smiled and said something about how he couldn’t believe his eyes in Spanish, hugging her tight. Isobel hugged him back and tears sprung to her eyes. She was more than thankful for him.

“I’ve been keeping up with you, you know,” Arturo said, nodding, “All that designing stuff you do. I don’t really understand all of it, but I’ve seen all those fancy celebrities you’ve dressed. You really made something of yourself, Isobel. I’m so proud of you.”

“Alright, Papi, we’re gonna go get that air mattress, okay?” Liz said, brushing it off with a laugh. Isobel almost told her she would just stay with Arturo all night. But that wasn’t an option as they climbed the narrow stairs.

And then they were in Liz’s room.

“Wow,” Isobel said, “Yours looks exactly the same.”

“Yeah, well,” Liz breathed, watching her closely as she closed the door behind them. And then it was just them again. Isobel smiled softly before dropping onto the bed, giving Liz a playful come hither look. Liz just shook her head. “I never thought I was going to see you again.”

“I had no plans to come back,” Isobel admitted, “Things happen. Like my mother dying and you marrying my brother.” 

"You don't understand."

"Then can you explain it to me? Because I cannot understand how you married a man," Isobel said, looking up at her. Liz had been so headstrong, had been there to say it doesn't matter, that it's not a bad thing. And Liz was the one to go back on that.

"I haven't come out to my dad," she said softly, "And I was scared."

"Don't you think he knows? News travels fast," Isobel pointed out.

"He doesn't listen to gossip. If he knew, he wouldn't have let me marry Max," she said simply. Isobel huffed a laugh and shook her head. "I was hanging out with him a little more after you left. We both missed you."

"I didn't leave, I was thrown out," Isobel reminded her. Liz took a deep breath and pushed off the door to take a step closer.

"Your mom pulled me aside one day and told me I should marry him. That he liked me, that it was a good idea," Liz explained. Isobel got that sick feeling again.

"Oh my God." 

"And when I talked to Father Santiago, he told me I should too," Liz added, "So I did."

"Oh my God," Isobel said, more disgust than the first time, "So, what, you just played it straight? This whole time?"

"Yeah," Liz sighed, slowly sitting beside her. Closer than they had been outside. "I didn't have a choice."

"So you were never with another woman?" Isobel prodded. Liz gave a sad little smile and looked up at the ceiling.

"No."

"Jesus, Liz," Isobel said, shaking her head, "How are you even okay?" 

"It's not so bad," Liz said softly, "Max is nice. Respectful. Doesn't force me into anything I don't want." 

"Oh my God."

"You're overreacting," Liz sighed, "We're fine."

"How are you fine? You're in a marriage with someone you aren't attracted to and he loves you in a way you can never love him. I mean, I want to feel bad for him, but he swooped in and married you all while knowing what you were to me," Isobel scoffed, shaking her head, "So unhealthy."

"What was I to you, exactly?" Liz asked softly. Isobel looked over at her and blew air out of her nose, unable to ignore how gorgeous she was up close. She was always so pretty.

Instead of answering, Isobel reached for her braid, pulling it over her shoulder and rolling the elastic off before unraveling it. Her hair hung to her waist in loose waves, falling into her face and reminding Isobel of some of the many times they found themselves alone in this room. Fifteen and stupid and "practicing" kissing so they'd know what to do. Sixteen and drunk on wine coolers they stole from Isobel's mom and kissing each other with full intent and making it known that it wasn't just practice for the first time. Seventeen and reckless and so desperate to get their hands on each other that they fell off the bed. Eighteen and cuddling and whispering about what the future held. How the hell had it turned into this?

"I missed you so goddamn much," Isobel admitted, tucking a strand of Liz's hair behind her ear, "I kept googling your name and waiting for some scientific article you wrote to pop up. It never happened."

"I want to."

"Do it," Isobel said, cupping her chin gently, "You are brilliant. Do it."

Liz stared at her, eyes filling with tears and Isobel wondered how long it'd been since someone told her that. Or, maybe, when was the last time her father told her that before he realized it did more harm than good to make her feel bad about her choices? 

It happened quickly after that, Liz leaning in and pressing a kiss to her lips. It was hesitant and hardly a kiss at all, just lips touching as if she wasn't sure she was allowed to or if she didn't remember how. Isobel hesitated too, trying to weigh the pros and cons of missing his brother's wife. But, then again, he'd known she and Isobel had been together before he decided to marry her. So, truly, it was his fault for being stupid. 

Isobel parted her lips and slid her hand to the back of Liz's neck, holding her in place as she pushed her tongue into her mouth. Liz reacted like she hadn't been touched in a decade, whining softly as she came in close. Isobel's heart was beating in her ears as she relearned the taste of her lips, her other hand resting on Liz's knee before slowly, slowly sliding her fingers between them.

Liz took a shaky breath as Isobel's hand gradually moved up between her thighs, slow and careful as she edged closer and closer. It wasn't until her fingers traced down the zipper of her jeans that Liz grabbed her wrist.

"Sorry," Isobel said, reluctantly pulling away, "I'm sorry."

Liz stared at her for a moment, debating and unmoving. Isobel waited for her cue, waited to follow her lead. She always had.

"I called Michael to get him to tell you about your," Liz admitted, voice soft and hesitant, "I wanted you to come home. I needed you to come home."

Isobel looked at her, at the dark need in her eyes and how that need was for much more than Isobel's touch. She just needed Isobel. In her entirety. And suddenly she remembered what it was like to feel loved again.

"I'm home," Isobel stated simply. Liz took a breath and relaxed, guiding Isobel's hand to press against the seam of her jeans that was the barrier between them as if all she needed was that little phrase to get her to open up.

So Isobel laid her back on the bed and slipped her fingers past the waistband of her jeans, easily reminding them both how good it was to be with each other and no one else.

And Isobel fully intended to make sure Liz got all the good things she should've gotten a decade prior.

**Author's Note:**

> Also on my Tumblr: spaceskam


End file.
